Pinocchio's Princess
by Sehrezad
Summary: AU Emma's turning eighteen and her parents are planning a huge ball to introduce her to the eligible princes of Fairy-Tale Land. The problem is that Emma's heart is already taken – it belongs to Pinocchio, the son of a woodcarver, whom she's been secretly seeing for years. Maybe it's time to come out with the truth… August/Emma with Charming family fluff
1. Chapter 1

**Pinocchio's Princess**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

_Summary: AU Emma's turning eighteen and her parents are planning a huge ball to introduce her to the eligible princes of Fairy-Tale Land. The problem is that Emma's heart is already taken – it belongs to Pinocchio, the son of a woodcarver, whom she's been secretly seeing for years. Maybe it's time to come out with the truth… (August/Emma with Charming family fluff)_

_Well, this story was originally intended to be a one-shot but when it hit 6000 words, I began to debate with myself – should I divide it up into chapters or should I leave it as a one-shot? I decided on leaving it as a one-shot so now I'm posting it in four chapters. I know…_

Chapter 1

Emma was still braiding her hair with deft fingers as she was making her way out of her bedchamber, her cloak dangling thrown over one arm. She didn't even spare a fleeting glance for her full-length ornate mirror to check her appearance as she passed by. Securing the end of the braid, she carefully opened her door and peeked out.

Making sure that nobody was nearby, she stepped out and hastily threw her cloak over her shoulders then turned towards the kitchen where – being the busiest part of the castle in any time of the day and even more so with the ball coming up – she knew she could sneak out without being noticed.

Fortunately the sitting room where she should be at the moment with her two younger sisters improving her needlework was in another part of the castle and she didn't have to risk being caught by her mistress. But she did have to pass by Ms Azure's chamber where Dorothy and Andrew were playing with their nanny. Although the door was open, she managed to skip by unnoticed and not long after that she reached a fairly silent part of the castle… that was until she got to the kitchen area.

As always, nobody thought twice about her presence in that part of the castle as they were bustling around. Well, most probably they didn't even notice that King James' eldest daughter was scurrying in their midst.

Emma was just about to slip out of the castle through the large door that was open for the men who were carrying the supply that had just arrived from town when a small hand grabbed her wrist.

She gasped surprised then glanced down at the little girl who'd got a hold on her. It was little Dora blinking up at her. Emma smiled; Dorothy was her favorite little sister.

She'd never really felt particularly close to either of her other two sisters. At thirteen and fifteen, they were both closer to her age than five years old Dora but both Annabella and Marianne tired Emma to no end with their mindless chatter about dashing princes and courageous knights who'd sweep them off of their feet one day and make them queens of wondrous lands… or some crap like that. Emma had no interest in such things: princes with flawless manner and perfect look annoyed her, heroic knights and their pompous boasting pissed her off, and she definitely did not wish to become a queen.

With her tomboy attitude, Dora was different, just like seven-year-old Andrew. The little boy with his cheerful disposition and trusting openness towards everybody was nothing like his elder brother, sixteen years old Anthony. He was born to be a king, always so pragmatic and serious with a stern, mistrustful look in his blue eyes that belied his young age. Emma suspected he wouldn't recognize fun if it hit him in his pretty face.

This, of course, didn't mean that she didn't love any of her siblings but the two youngest held a special place in her heart.

She hoped her son – if she was given the chance to bear one – would be like little Andrew. He was able to bring light to a gloomy day.

"Doll," Emma hissed her nickname for her baby sister, her eyes worriedly running through their surroundings to gauge whether she'd been made out. "What are you doing here?" she looked back down at the little girl and, however annoyed she was by Dora following her, she couldn't help the loving smile that tugged at her lips.

"Can I go with you?" Dora didn't beat around the bush and at once Emma noticed that his sister had her travelling cloak with her. That girl would give a lot of headache to their parents in the upcoming years. Emma was impressed.

"No," she shook her head hoping for Dora to accept the answer.

"Why?" Of course, she was in that age when every statement coming from others was followed with a question of why from Dora. In the case of her little sister, this age seemed to last for years as she'd been torturing her family with endless inquiries ever since she started to speak.

Emma sighed.

"Because…" she started trailing off not really knowing what to say. Telling a five-year-old that she was fully intending to screw the daylight out of her secret boyfriend and she didn't need to have her around for that wouldn't be the wisest idea. "Because… I want to entrust you with an important task," she finally said assuming a grave expression.

"Really?" the little girl's face lit up with excitement and Emma congratulated herself for the nice save.

"Really," she nodded. "But you have to take it seriously… very seriously," she warned the girl who nodded, already attributing enormous significance to her duty. "You have to go back and pretend that you didn't see me. Can you do that… for me?"

"Yeah."

"Good girl," she tousled Dora's hair with a warm smile.

"Love you, Emmy," the little girl suddenly threw her arms around Emma's waist and squeezed her.

Emma laughed out, "I love you, too, Doll. Now go." She patted her on the back and watched as she started to run, her dark curls bouncing on her back. She was just about to turn around and continue on her way when Dora stopped her.

"Emmy," she called to her sister. Emma groaned. She loved that little girl immensely but she was really frustrating at times. Their mother liked to point out that she was exactly like Emma had been at her age.

"Yes?" she turned back with a patient expression.

"Will you take me out to ride?"

Really? Emma groaned inwardly. Was it really necessary to discuss that right now?

"Of course, Sweetheart," Emma mustered up yet another patient smile, wishing to be on her way already.

"Without the saddle?" Dora bounced excitedly.

Bareback? Emma rolled her eyes. Of course, why not? She'd take out a five-year-old to ride a horse without any security. Their parents would love that. But hell, at that moment she'd promise the little girl that she'd teach her how to jump the ruined stone fence of the old stables if that was what she wanted.

Emma nodded. "Tomorrow, okay?"

"Yay," the little exclaimed then turned around and, skillfully navigating among the people running up and down in the busy kitchen, she ran away.

Emma let out a sigh of relief then turned around and hastily left the building.

**TBC**

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Pinocchio's Princess**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

_Summary: AU Emma's turning eighteen and her parents are planning a huge ball to introduce her to the eligible princes of Fairy-Tale Land. The problem is that Emma's heart is already taken – it belongs to Pinocchio, the son of a woodcarver. Maybe it's time to come out with the truth… (August/Emma with Charming family fluff)_

_Thanks for the R&R, everyone. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, too._

Chapter 2

Fortunately, old Gepetto's cottage wasn't far from the walls of the castle – the old man had never liked the hustle and bustle of town life – and after a quick run in the forest, Emma saw the little house emerging from among the tress.

Her lips involuntarily turned into an excited grin as she was getting closer, already anticipating her meeting with Pinocchio.

The man had been acting strangely in the last couple of weeks. While she couldn't remember a time she hadn't known him, they'd been seeing each other secretly for almost two years now. But ever since their relationship turned more serious, it'd never been easy to arrange a date and lately he'd made it even more difficult.

Except for him having some job to do in the castle, Emma could hardly see him. When cornering him in one of the corridors or in the yard, he seemed different. Of course, meeting inside the walls of the castle had never been the same as meeting in the forest where they could be sure there were no prying eyes nearby. And when searching for him in his father's house, he could be seldom found there.

Today she was determined to have him for herself no matter what. If she had to stroll back to town and pull him away from her father himself, she'd do that.

She skipped up to the side of the little house and rounded it to get to the tiny adjacent wooden construction that formed Gepetto's workshop. She peeked in from the corner of the large window – the old man loved natural light – and noted happily that Pinocchio was working there. She took a couple of minutes just to observe the man as he worked. He seemed deeply engrossed in assembling a little toy that looked like some kind of animal.

Emma found him endearingly handsome as he stood hunched over his workbench with his shirtsleeves rolled up and wearing a leather apron.

She couldn't wait any longer. With quick steps, she walked up to the door to the workshop then, careful not to make any noise, she sneaked up behind Pinocchio and, rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her face into his neck while her arms circled his waist.

Pinocchio jumped at the sudden, unexpected contact but he was quick to recognize the slender arms holding onto his midriff.

"You could have said hello first, you know," he laughed putting down the now assembled wooden dog.

"Hello," Emma murmured smiling into his neck.

"Hello to you, too," Pinocchio returned the greeting, turning around and taking the girl into his arms.

They shared a short kiss before Emma pulled away slightly and regarded him with twinkling eyes. "Can you sneak away?"

"Sneak away?" Pinocchio chuckled. "You're awfully bad for my work morale, Princess."

"I don't care about your work morale; I want to spend some time with you."

"I've got work to do," Pinocchio objected, albeit with apparent reluctance.

"You've always got work to do," Emma pouted stepping out of his arms. "I haven't spent time with you alone for weeks." Pinocchio opened his mouth to say something but Emma cut him off. "And don't come with our encounter behind Mr. Jacob's toy-store," she warned him then, as an afterthought, she added, "… or in the tool-shed of the blacksmith." A cheesy grin appeared on Pinocchio's face at the memory of that but Emma didn't notice it as something else occurred to her and she went on. "Or in the porter's room," she shuddered at the thought of that. That tiny little hole against the eastern wall of the castle was disgustingly filthy. "They don't count as spending time together; they were only some quick fuck."

"Well, it wasn't your protest you screamed when I…"

"You're a pig." Emma narrowed her eyes.

"It wasn't me who brought this up," Pinocchio raised his hands in defense, chuckling slightly. "I just wanted to note that it wasn't only me who'd been busy recently. If I remember correctly you were quite in a hurry last time to go and play dress-up with your sisters."

"I didn't have a choice," Emma protested. "That damn ball ruins my life." And, really, she hated it. She hated all the fuss that was made around it, all the appointments with the seamstress, all the pointless talk about accessories and hair-styles, all the excited chit-chat about the big night... all the expectations.

"But Princess, that ball will be the night of your life. Or so I heard… With all those eligible good-looking princes swarming around…"

"I don't fucking care about those freaks," Emma burst out then quickly composed herself and stepped back to Pinocchio, looking up at him. "Please, Pinocchio, spend the day with me," she pleaded cupping his cheek.

Pinocchio smiled at her affectionately and reached up to took her hand in his.

"All right," he kissed her knuckles then let her hand go to untie his apron. "Let's go. Father is in town on business so it won't do much harm if I sneak away." After discarding the apron, he turned back to her and offered her his hand. "And I wanted to show you something anyway." He squeezed her hand gently when Emma put it into his then they started out of the door.

"Well, I certainly hoped so," Emma retorted with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she eyed his ass with unabashed interest as the man was gently pulling her out of the workshop.

"You've got such a dirty mind," Pinocchio laughed turning back to her and noticing where her eyes had been resting.

"What do you expect?" Emma stopped – making Pinocchio stop, too, and turn toward her, effectively bringing another part of him in the line of her vision – then cocked an eyebrow taking her time to lift her eyes to meet his. "You haven't shown me anything in weeks!"

"So that's why you're coming here," Pinocchio concluded and stepped closer to her so that he had to bow his head to look into her eyes challengingly. "A roll in the hay?" his voice sounded hurt but his twinkling eyes said otherwise.

"Well," Emma took his challenge with a challenge of her own. "You certainly wouldn't know. It's not as if I'd found you here lately," she stated and Pinocchio's straight features contorted with laughter. She'd got him there.

"All right, all right," he gave in, bringing his arms around her. "I got it," he nudged her slightly when Emma seemed unwilling to melt into his arms. "And I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you," he put a small kiss on her lips which made Emma smile. "I promise."

"Of course you will…" Emma agreed with a sweet smile as she rose on her tiptoes to kiss him properly. "And you can start now," she informed him stepping out of his arms. Pinocchio had just noticed that she'd used his inattentiveness to unlock his fingers behind her back. "What about…" she smirked, "… I race you to the pond," she challenged already running for the woods. "First one there gets to be on top."

"You cheeky little…" Pinocchio laughed and promptly ran after his girlfriend.

When he reached Emma, he got hold of her hand and they continued running like that until the pond came into sight. Pinocchio dropped her hand then and let her run forward, making a great show of panting when he emerged from the woods not long after Emma, who'd been standing there with hands on her hips, her cloak lying forgotten on the ground.

"It seems you won," Pinocchio said leaning forward resting her hands on his thighs.

"Oh, cut it off," Emma rolled her eyes. "But just for you to know, I could have beat you without you letting me."

"Of course," Pinocchio, giving up the charade, walked up to her.

They shared a short kiss then Emma stepped out of his embrace and set to unlace her bodice vest.

"Somebody's in a hurry," Pinocchio observed with a chuckle as Emma discarded that piece of clothing and began working on her skirt.

"Let's go to swim," she suggested enthusiastically as she shimmied out of her long skirt taking the under-slip with it.

Pinocchio didn't have time to react before gone was Emma's white cotton blouse that was followed by her chemise. And he couldn't be sure how but somewhere along the way, her shoes and stockings got thrown on the ground, too.

"You're not the shy one, are you, Princess?" Pinocchio observed with an amused but appreciative grin as Emma suddenly stood before him in all her naked glory.

"It's not as if you hadn't seen it all before," she pointed out with a coy smile, stretching her arms above her head and turning around without any sign of self-consciousness just to make sure that Pinocchio saw everything. A satisfied smirk was playing on her lips as she noticed how the man's eyes danced with desire as he took in her form. "Come on," she quipped with a little bounce that made her look like an excited little girl then she turned around and jumped into the water.

Pinocchio was frozen to the spot as he watched mesmerized as Emma's head reappeared from under the water.

Emma gave him a dazzling smile. "I can see who the shy one is here," she observed as she raised an eyebrow taking in Pinocchio's still dressed form. That seemed to have snapped him out of it because he was out of his clothes within a blink of an eye and joined Emma in the water with a wolfish grin.

**TBC**

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Pinocchio's Princess**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

_Summary: AU Emma's turning eighteen and her parents are planning a huge ball to introduce her to the eligible princes of Fairy-Tale Land. The problem is that Emma's heart is already taken – it belongs to Pinocchio, the son of a woodcarver. Maybe it's time to come out with the truth… (August/Emma with Charming family fluff)_

_There is a little Jiminy/Red mentioned here._

_Again, thank you for reading and reviewing!_

Chapter 3

Some time later, they were lying on the shore satiated in each other's arms, using Emma's cloak as their makeshift bed.

"I love you, Emma," Pinocchio said in a solemn tone which made Emma's head snap up to look at her lover with concern.

"Why are you saying that like this?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"Well," he chuckled uneasily. "That's the part when you say that you love me, too."

"Don't shit with me," Emma looked at him sternly, as she pushed herself up into a semi sitting position. She was apparently not in the mood for playing jokes. "Why did you say it that way?"

"What way?"

"I don't know… with such resignation. You want to end it, don't you?" She suddenly looked panicked. "You've had enough of hiding. You want something real. And why wouldn't you?" she posed the question apparently to herself because her focus clearly shifted as she started rambling. "You're a healthy young male. Maybe you realized that you don't want to fool around with a girl much younger than you… who's a princess I might add. Maybe you've met a beautiful young woman who doesn't have the king as her father and you don't have to live in constant fear of getting killed because you are banging her. I got it, really. I hate to be a princess, too, so why wouldn't you hate it? Not to mention tha…"

"God, Emma," Pinocchio looked at her stunned. "You've got some serious problems with your self-esteem," he stated in a tone that was somewhere between bemused and confounded. "I don't want to leave you. I want to marry you."

"What?" Emma breathed caught off-guard.

"You heard me," Pinocchio smiled. "I love you and I want to marry you."

"Are you serious? You're not worried about…"

"What? Your family? If your father is ready to kill me just because we're in love then he's not the man I thought him to be. Or that you're a princess? Emma, if you were the daughter of a beggar, I couldn't care less. You're my princess and that's what matters."

"Then let's get married," Emma beamed leaning in to kiss him.

"What?" Pinocchio asked, mimicking her previous reaction.

"You heard me," Emma rolled her eyes. "I love you and I want to marry you."

Pinocchio kissed her then and shifted to lay Emma on the ground as he lingered over her.

"I love you," he repeated.

"You've already said that," Emma giggled merrily.

"What?" Pinocchio arched an eyebrow. "Already bored of it?"

"Never," Emma husked as she pulled him into a deep kiss.

"Good," Pinocchio said after they parted. "And now let's get dressed." And with that, he was on his feet, pulling his shirt from the ground and over his head. Emma looked at him with furrowed brows. "Hurry up, Princess, I've got something to show you."

"I thought I've already seen everything," she said raising on her elbows and regarding him with a suggestive look.

Pinocchio gave her a shit-eating grin which made Emma roll her eyes. "Well, not everything," he winked at her as he buttoned up his vest. "Raise that pretty ass of yours already."

With reluctance, Emma got to her feet and looked around for her clothes. She was just about to pick up her blouse when Pinocchio grabbed her from behind and pulled her flash against him.

"On second thought," he murmured huskily while one of his hands sneaked under Emma's short chemise to feel her and the other drew the outline of her breast over the thin fabric. Emma shivered. "We can spare a couple of more minutes."

Emma swatted his hands away and squirmed out of her arms turning around and giving him a not so amused look – which was quite difficult because she suddenly felt incredibly turned on.

Pinocchio groaned. She looked hot as hell in her light chemise that was thin enough to let her nipples show through while the slit of the cleavage, with the drawstring left untied, showed off the delicate shape of her breasts. Her tousled golden locks fell over her shoulders in unruly curls giving just a glimpse of her pale shoulders that were left free by the short sleeves of her chemise that had slipped off of them slightly. And the look in her eyes...

"You wanted to go," she challenged. "So, let's go."

Reluctantly though, but both of them got dressed and as they got started, Emma slipped her hands into Pinocchio's.

On their way, Emma watched with growing curiosity as Pinocchio led the way through the forest in a direction they usually didn't take in their outings and noticed that they were following up-stream the little stream that ran into the pond they'd just left behind.

After a little while the trees started to give place to yet another clearing. As they stepped into the clearing still hand in hand, Emma stopped with a surprised gasp. Letting go of Pinocchio's hand she made a couple of steps forward then stopped and looked back at the young man with hesitant joy.

She couldn't be sure but now she had a good idea why Pinocchio had brought her there.

Her eyes must have mirrored her uncertainty because she could see Pinocchio nodding encouragingly. A huge grin erupted on her face and she practically jumped into his arms. Pinocchio caught her and held her close.

"Do you like it?" he asked as Emma was still clinging to him and he could feel her nod vigorously.

"Yes," she answered after pulling away just to make sure that the man had understood. "I love it."

"Come on," Pinocchio nudged her. "Let's take a look at the inside."

Emma took a minute to take in the scene in front of her before starting to walk.

It was just like she'd described it once. Surrounded by the forest, there was a solitary willow in the clearing a couple of feet away from the stream they'd been following. And next to the tree, there stood a little wooden cottage.

It was beautiful.

And if it was beautiful from the outside, it was perfect from the inside. The cottage wasn't big but it was large enough to accommodate a family – a fact that made Emma's heart flutter with anticipation – and provide a comfortable living space.

"I can't believe it," Emma said as she ran her hand over the smooth surface of the dining table. "You did all this." It wasn't a question. It suddenly became very clear why the man had been so hard to find in the last couple of weeks. "But how?" she turned to him. It must have taken months to build and furnish a house.

"I had a lot of help," Pinocchio admitted as he pushed himself away from the door frame from where he'd silently observed as Emma took in the interior of their new home.

"You told people about us?"

"Well, not exactly. There is an awfully great foot traffic in this part of the forest," he informed her with an amused expression. "You know, I'm actually surprised that we've never been caught. Did you know that Jiminy and Red are using that spot by the caves to meet? Now I know why the man was so desperate to be turned back into a man."

"So you caught them…?" Emma asked with a bemused chuckled.

"God, no!" Pinocchio shook his as if trying to expel the image of her friend and Red from his thoughts. "But they caught me working on the house so I had to tell them… and if we were at it, I called them on their little private excursion."

"I see," Emma acknowledged his answer as her attention shifted momentarily over the beautifully carved chairs around the table then she looked over her shoulder with eyebrows raised in a questioning arch. "Did you blackmail them into helping?"

"Now you really hurt me, Princess," Pinocchio put his hand on his chest in mock hurt. "I'm a good boy. They offered to help. As a matter of fact, it was Red and Granny who made the bedding and all the textiles…" here he trailed off unsure whether he should tell everything. "With Gretel," he finally added with a frown. They both knew that while Gretel could be trusted to keep her mouth shut, if her brother got wind about the two of them it was likely that the whole forest would know about it for the next day. "She was out with the kids and you know her… if she gets something into her head, there is no way to talk her out of it," he tried to explain seeing Emma's disbelieving expression. "And she decided to help."

For a short while Emma regarded him with narrowed eyes then, to Pinocchio's relief, she decided to let the matter slide.

"What did Jiminy do?" she asked finally.

"Work wise… Not much," Pinocchio shrugged. "You know him, his strongest suit is his mouth. He was a great help, though, in coming up with excuses to my father for my absence. Some conscience he is."

"It's still an awfully lot of work."

"Well, yeah. You see… the dwarfs may be using the pasture behind the hill to play rounders."

"The dwarfs?" Emma asked incredulously. They might as well have told Hansel about their relationship and it wouldn't get faster into the ears of her parents!

"Don't look at me like that," Pinocchio shrugged. "Grumpy might me a bitter old fool but he's a real romantic at heart. He promised to keep his mouth… And they really helped a great deal."

Emma shook her head taking it all in and turned around once again to run her eyes around her new home. She couldn't believe it.

"You shouldn't have worked so hard," she finally said. "I mean you must have spent most of your time here in the last few weeks. Why's the hurry?"

"Emma, you're turning eighteen next week," Pinocchio explained. "Hell, they are organizing a fucking ball just to get you hooked up with a pretty face who's got a kingdom to inherit and a lot of other things to make up for with his shitty personality. I wanted you to know what I'm ready to offer you. And I know it's not much by a princess' standard but it's me…"

"And that's all I need," Emma was quick to reassure him. "And anyway, I'm your princess and I love you and I love all of this so… it's pretty much by a princess' standard."

"I love your logic."

"Yeah," Emma scrunched up her nose. "I'm not just a pretty face, I'm fairly clever, too."

"That you are," Pinocchio agreed but wasn't ready to give up voicing his doubts. He wanted to make sure that Emma knew what she was signing up for. "But Emma…" he started but Emma seemed to have concluded that part of their conversation as she was standing by a window that looked at the grassy area behind the house.

"I want a goat," she stated abruptly, cutting off Pinocchio, who raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic.

"A goat? What would you do with a goat?"

"I don't know," Emma shrugged. "But they are cute," she mused then her eyes grew with excitement. "Oh… I like goat milk. We could have a she-goat that gives milk. What?" she asked when Pinocchio shook his head, chuckling.

"You do know that you have to milk that goat to get milk, right?"

"I can do it," she stated indignantly but only earned more chuckles from the man.

"You can do it, huh? Emma, I love you… but you're a princess. You weren't brought up to do the job of a hand maid or a house wife."

"Well, I've just agreed to be a house wife," Emma pointed out. "I can learn it. I can learn all of it."

"Like sewing?" Pinocchio asked amused but at the same time admiring her determination. "Emma, I can't remember a time when you didn't show up without your fingers looking like a pincushion."

"Well, it's not my fault that I'm so damn distracted all the time," she defended herself. Pinocchio raised an eyebrow at that and Emma's suggestive smile answered his wordless question. "Anyway, I can learn how to sew; I just have to put my mind to it. And I'll certainly need that skill. Now we don't want you to walk around in torn clothes or something like that. I'll be a good wife, you'll see."

"Emma, you don't have to…"

"Oh, hush now," Emma cut him off. "Why did you ask me to marry you if you think that being your wife is beyond me?"

"I love you," was Pinocchio's simple reply which was rewarded by a gentle smile from Emma.

"Good. But just for you to know, I won't sit around at home looking pretty and do nothing," she informed him in a stern voice that told the man to stop objecting, then her expression softened and a charming smile appeared on her face as she continued pleadingly, "Now, can I have that goat?"

"You can have anything you want, Princess," Pinocchio laughed out, apparently feeling relieved, as he pulled her into his embrace.

"I always wanted a whole farm with cute little ducklings and funny little piglets and..."

Pinocchio groaned.

**TBC**

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Pinocchio's Princess**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

_Summary: AU Emma's turning eighteen and her parents are planning a huge ball to introduce her to the eligible princes of Fairy-Tale Land. The problem is that Emma's heart is already taken – it belongs to Pinocchio, the son of a woodcarver. Maybe it's time to come out with the truth… (August/Emma with Charming family fluff)_

_Thanks for following this story!_

Chapter 4

Emma was sitting in the room with an unenthusiastic expression as she listened to her sisters' merry chatting about the upcoming ball. She winced every now and then when the needle hit her skin and felt like swearing when once it drew blood – the only consolation in that was imagining her mistress' face, should she really voice her utter dislike of her present predicament.

She was fed up with that all ball-of-the-century crap and she felt downright sick when Anna and Marie began telling her just how lucky she was. They were in some kind of rapture about the possibility of a prince showing up at the ball and claiming Emma as his wife. When they got to the point where that really handsome prince got on one knee to propose in front of the whole kingdom and Emma throwing herself into his arms in tears of joy, Emma hissed again as the needle tore her skin.

Putting her bleeding finger into her mouth, she shoved the cloth she was working on to the floor and stood up. She left the room with steady steps ignoring the surprised gasps of her sisters and the indignant protest of the mistress.

With strong determination in her steps, she walked up to the council room and barged in with a straight face, masterfully ignoring the stunned looks the men in the room gave her.

"I have to talk to my father," she stated without any permeable and without excusing her un-ladylike behavior.

The men turned to the king who looked similarly taken aback by her daughter's brisk manner but nodded his consent. As the lords and knights filed out of the room, James approached her daughter with a disapproving look. However, before he could have given voice to his concerns regarding her behavior, Emma spoke up.

"I don't want to go to that ball, Daddy," she started in a pleading voice, her stance suddenly losing all self-assurance. "I don't want to meet all those princes and I don't want to accept their proposal. I don't want to marry a pretty face and have pretty babies with him. I don't want to be a queen. I don't want any of it."

James' face softened as he took in Emma's desperate features. "Emma, I know it all seems scary but…"

"No," Emma shook her head. "It's not scary. It's just not what I want."

"What do you want, Emma?"

"I want to marry Pinocchio," she blurted out, for a moment seeming just as surprised as her father was hearing her declaration. She quickly collected herself, though, and continued in a steady voice. "I've already said yes to his proposal. I love him, Daddy. And I know that he's not a prince but I've known him in my entire life and I know that he will make me happy. He's making me happy. And you don't have to worry; he doesn't expect anything from you… like half of your kingdom or something like that. He likes his life as it is… and I like that life, too. I don't want to be a princess anymore. I want to live with him in that cottage he built for us. And he would have come to you with all this but I really had to tell you before you make me marry somebody else," Emma came to a close in her rambling that had left her slightly panting.

There was a little pause that seemed to last for ever for Emma before James spoke up following a heavy sigh.

"You've given quite some thought to the matter," James observed with a contemplative expression. "He built a cottage for you, you said. Tell me, Emma, how long has this… whatever it is… thing been going on between you two?"

"Some time," Emma said trailing off uncertainly but almost instantly she straightened and looked her father square in the eye. "Almost two years," she admitted.

"I see," James acknowledged her answer with a deep, troubled sigh.

After that Emma watched as her father started into a heated monologue about the duties and the expected behavior of a princess, about the good name of the royal family and the consequences her irresponsible actions would entail.

And during all of this Emma held her head high, taking everything thrown into her face with pride because she had regretted nothing when it came to Pinocchio. It was only when her father's last words left his mouth that she cast down her head with shame.

"I'm really disappointed in you, Emma," James turned to his daughter with a grave expression. "Why didn't you come to us when it all started? Why didn't you trust your parents enough to support you in your choice?"

This made Emma snap up her head and she gave a confounded look to her father. In spite of everything that had just transpired in the last couple of minutes, James smiled.

"Your mother and I… we love you, Emma. And all we want for you is to be happy. If Gepetto's son makes you happy then you have our blessings. You should have known that."

With quivering lips Emma threw herself into his father's arms and started to cry. "I'm so sorry, Daddy," she said as James brought his arms around her.

This was how Snow found her husband and daughter after having heard about the incident during the council. She gave James a concerned look but the man dismissed her worries with a small smile that told her nothing serious had transpired.

Snow assumed a carefree smile that seemed only slightly forced as she walked up to James and Emma. "So what is the big deal that warranted the temporary dissolution of the council?"

Emma pulled away from her father and, after exchanging a look with him, she turned to her mother, her posture once again straight and proud.

"I'm in love with Pinocchio."

"That one I've already known," Snow informed her daughter and got a simultaneous _You know?_ from both Emma and James. She rolled her eyes and gave them a look that asked whether they really thought she wouldn't know about something like that. "I'm your mother, Emma," she simply said. "And I don't see any problem with that," she gave a look to her husband. "Pinocchio is a great boy."

"I want to marry him," Emma continued and watched astonished as a huge smile appeared on her mother's face.

"That's great news, Honey," she said stroking Emma's cheeks with motherly affection. "Then these were happy tears, I assume?"

Emma shifted a little then shrugged. "More like confused tears?"

"Emma here," James started to explain, "barged into the meeting to demand talking with me then she burst into tears begging me not to give her into marriage against her will. Then she informed me that she'd been seeing Gepetto's boy for two years now and she intents to marry him and move into a cottage the boy had built for them."

"Is that so?" Snow looked at her daughter curiously.

"I didn't burst into tears," Emma denied with defiance, frowning at her father. Then she added somewhat hesitantly, "Until Dad told me that you'd support me in whatever decision I make as long as it makes me happy."

"Your dad spoke right," Snow concurred.

"So you never wanted me to choose a husband at the ball?"

"Your sisters have big mouths and an overactive imagination," Snow sighed referring to the girls' romantic notions concerning the ball. "Emma, nobody is forcing you to choose your future husband on the spot. The ball is just an opportunity to get to know some new faces. Did you really think that we'd force you into a marriage you don't desire?"

"No, I guess," Emma admitted sheepishly. Now it all sounded all too stupid.

"Good," James concluded. "I'd hate to think that my daughter's thinking of me like an archaic monarch."

"I am not," Emma protested. "I just got a little…"

"Overwhelmed?" Snow offered and Emma nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"That's all right," James reassured her, pulling her to his side. "But don't ever assume again that you can't talk to us in any matter. I don't want to wait for two years to learn about anything that concerns you." At that Emma could only nod because she still felt quite stupid about how that whole matter turned out. Her parents were awesome.

"Now that all things are settled we can go back to our daily duties," James continued in an amused tone, thinking about all the dignitaries Emma had kicked out of the room earlier.

Happy about the turn of the events and grateful for her parents' support, Emma hugged both of them, nodding when her father informed her that he'd have some serious talk with Pinocchio, before turning to leave. After a couple of steps, though, she turned around and risked one final question.

"Does that mean…?" she trailed off as her mother shook her head before she could have even finished the sentence.

"No, it definitely doesn't. The ball has to be held," Snow declared. "And you have to attend it like all the princes and princesses."

Well, she had to try.

"Why?" she asked with clear dislike in her voice.

"Because we have to announce that Princess Emma's hand had already been given into marriage," Snow informed her and an accepting smile appeared on Emma's face. She could live with that.

And when the ball's night came, Emma stood proudly next to her fiancé who, in spite of not being a prince, made Emma feel like a princess because she was his princess.

She was Pinocchio's princess.

**The End**

_I hope you're not disappointed about the way the Charmings reacted to Emma's revelation. I didn't want them to go hard on her simply because I believe that both Snow and James can understand her situation and wouldn't stand in the way of her happiness. And I also imagine that should Emma have grown up with her parents, she would have been a daddy's girl._

_Thanks for reading!_


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